Moment
by Gater101
Summary: OneShot. He knew it was wrong to go but now it wasn't right to stay.


Title: Moment  
Summary: He knew it was wrong to go but now it wasn't right to stay.  
Characters: John, Teyla, Grae  
Pairing: John/Teyla, Teyla/Kanan  
Rating: K

He slipped into the quiet, darkened infirmary and breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed no one was around. In the far corner, tucked behind a small partition, John saw the faint light of a night light spilling onto the sterile infirmary floor. Many times he'd almost lost his nerve on his way here and as his heart rate increased again, he'd be damned if he'd actually lose his nerve now.

He raised a hand to his eyes and calmed his breathing as he pushed off from the wall. His body ached in a way that he'd never known before; his nerve ends tingled with anticipation as his feet carried him helplessly to the far end of the room; his leg, which he'd only recently had removed from plaster, throbbed in protest and his head shrieked in pain at the light piercing his eyes. He hadn't known how long he'd been holed up on his secluded balcony – he was only glad no one had come to find him – but a chill had settled deep into his bones urging him indoors. He'd been fully intent on making his way to his quarters when something tickled the back of his mind. Before he knew it, he'd reached the infirmary and was mentally cursing Emotion for dragging him down here.

But as he stepped into the dim light and his eyes landed on the tiny figure inside the incubator, all thought evacuated his mind. He stopped, just inside the partition and stared in awe at the tiny baby. His heart filled with something akin to pride, almost like love and for a moment he was motionless, thoughtless, empty. His eyes took in the miniscule fingers and arms and the tiny bald head, the thick black eyelashes and tiny parted lips, while his heart tried to take stock of the sudden flood of emotion waving through him.

In two strides, he was beside the plastic container, his fingers pressed against the wall. Despite his body's groan of protest, he lowered to his knees and stared, slack jawed at the tiny wonder inside the simple machine that was doing its' best to keep him healthy. He stroked his fingers over the form of the infant, no bigger than John's forearm and he wondered how it was possible that Teyla had been so big while the little man was so small. He felt something in the back of his throat, solid and immovable. A sound escaped past it and he chided himself. A vague mist appeared before his eyes and he lowered his lids, sucking his lips in between his teeth and propped his head against the plastic with a gentle thud.

John really didn't want to think about how close they'd come to losing the little guy. He tried not to think of the images that Keller's words had conjured up as she'd recapped how the umbilical cord had wrapped around his neck, how both he and his mother's blood pressure had plummeted minutes before she'd stepped through the 'Gate, how they'd had to cut open Teyla's womb open and extract the baby, how Teyla's heart had stopped.

Tears seeped through his lids and he squeezed them tighter, hoping to ward off the coming pain. He'd known something would go wrong because nothing – _nothing _– ever went fine in the city of the Ancients. He opened his eyes slowly, a small sad smile warping his lips as he watched a tiny arm stretch, little fingers flexing towards him. He tapped his index finger against the partition and let out a watery laugh as the tiny, almost green eyes opened and stared at him through tiny slits. A silent sob passed his lips and he closed his eyes tightly, hoping to loosen the tightness in his chest.

He wasn't very good at emotion.

There was a whisper of sound behind him and he stilled, reigning in the urge to dim the lights further. There was another shuffle and a groan, followed by an almost silent "John?" He swallowed, almost didn't answer, almost stayed still in hopes that she would succumb to slumber again but he couldn't. Slowly, he turned and stared up at her from his crouched position, meeting her eyes with a helpless, tear soaked gaze. She tried to talk and he stood, painfully, moving towards her bed, shaking his head.

"Shh, it's okay." His hand reached for hers, his knuckles tracing over hers in a gentle, familiar caress. He felt something surge through him and he looked away, shifting his stare to the ceiling, warding off more tears. She didn't need to see him like this. He felt her hand shift beneath his and he stared down at their hands as her fingers twined through his, squeezing gently. He hitched a breath and it caught in his chest. He shook his head and looked away, towards the reason he'd snuck into the infirmary and sniffed. God, he needed to get a handle on his emotions. But he was just so glad... He turned back to her and raked in her appearance, noting the paleness of her face, the blackness of her eyes, the redness of her lids. His other hand reached out and stroked a sweaty lock from her forehead. She closed her eyes and he rested his fingers in her hair. "Are you..." he cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, hoping to reassure her of... _something_. "You're going to be all right," he managed and withdrew his hand.

She nodded tiredly, slowly and licked her lips. John looked about for something to drink but couldn't see anything. He didn't really want to leave.

"Grae."

He frowned at her.

"What?"

"That is his name." John turned to the baby and studied him, wondering why on Earth she'd chosen that name. If she was going to name him after a colour, he'd have thought something like red, rose – maybe even violet would have been appropriate... but Grae? He wasn't sure about that. "After Dorian." John turned back to her sharply, and stared into her open eyes. She smiled up at him before settling back against the pillows and closing his eyes.

Despite his over-whelming desire to leave after her confession he stayed for a few moments more until her breathing evened out. He turned to the incubator, his hand still trapped in Teyla's, and touched the edge of it again. He felt something strange in his chest, could feel something connecting him to the small baby held inside but he pushed it aside, not willing to dwell on it right then. He stayed that way, one hand in Teyla's, the other hovering over her son, for a few minutes before he felt it was inappropriate if he stayed any longer.

As he disentangled his fingers and took a step away, a sense of desolation hit him and he found he was unwilling to leave. But he knew he couldn't stay. Glancing around, he made sure the area was empty before kissing his fingers and placing them near to Grae's hand.

He felt her hand on his wrist before he heard her whisper his name. Pausing, he turned back to see her eyes open, her lips smiling at him evanescently.

"Stay."

He watched her for a moment as her eyes fluttered shut, wondering if she knew what she had asked of him. If he stayed, he wasn't sure he would be able to leave ever again. But if he went, he knew he would never be able to come back. He scanned her body, felt something tug and closed his eyes. It was wrong to stay. But it wasn't right to go.

He closed his eyes as he took a step back towards her and sank onto the chair that he'd ignored before, drawing the incubator closer to him.

And it was there he stayed, between Teyla and Grae, a silent vigil over their slumbering forms, until dawn tainted the dark horizon, seeping realisation into John's mind. And as he stood to leave, hours later when the city began to waken, he raised her hand to his lips, brushing them together before murmuring close to her ear;

"I'm really glad you're okay."

And as he moved to leave he felt the tug again.

He knew it was wrong to go, but now it wasn't right to stay.


End file.
